


Nuts About You

by ThornyHedge



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Allergies, Bottom Dean, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, Motel Room Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 20:03:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornyHedge/pseuds/ThornyHedge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aidan and Dean return to their Boston hotel room after an exhausting Con for some hot love-making. A seemingly innocuous bottle leads to a horrifying medical problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nuts About You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlueMonkey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMonkey/gifts).



> Just a little Aidan-accidentally-hurts-Dean for my partner in crime. Love you, girl. ♥

Being at a Con always made Aidan exceptionally obnoxious, once the spotlight was off him. Maybe it was the attention. He had to be on his very best, most polite behavior while meeting fans and answering questions. When that was no longer necessary, Aidan became downright impossible to live with.

Take this evening in Boston, for example. Dean was ready to _kill_ him. And not quickly and painlessly, either. For the entire taxi ride back to their hotel, Aidan hummed the theme from “The Smurfs” under his breath. Dean was certain Aidan had no idea he was even doing it. The sheer amount of Coke Aidan had drunk that day could have easily been the culprit.

Several times on the trip, Dean felt his hands turning into fists, or reaching out with a will to throttle the clueless Irishman. He really had no idea what a _child_ he was being. 

Ah, but none of that mattered now. When they’d gotten back to the hotel, Dean had jumped into his room’s Jacuzzi, only to be joined moments later by Aidan, much more subdued and carrying a bottle of champagne. Forty-five minutes later, Aidan had his tongue buried in Dean’s ass and any murderous thoughts were thrown way out the window.

Aidan was _so_ very good at this. So good at turning Dean into a writhing, incoherent, hot mess. Dean huffed out Aidan’s name and blew away the sheet clinging to his lips. “Unnngh, Aidannnn,” he muttered. “So good. So very _fucking_ good.”

Dean’s hips were rutting on their own accord, but Aidan stilled them with a firm grip on either one. “Deano,” he rasped, pulling back to wipe off his chin. “I am going to fuck you so hard you’re going to see stars. Then, I’m going to fuck you harder still.” He slipped his pointer finger into the sloppy wet mess of Dean’s hole and immediately found his prostate, poking it for good measure.

Dean yelped. “Fuck, _yes,_ ” he begged, and Aidan chuckled darkly.

They probably didn’t need lube, but Aidan reached for it anyway, which signaled to Dean that he was in for some serious deep-dicking. He shivered in anticipation as Aidan slicked himself up.

“Love that sound,” Dean wriggled his ass. “You, getting all slippery for me, and the little groans you make because it feels to good just to touch yourself.”

“It _does_ feel good,” Aidan admitted. “But you know what feels better? _This!_ ” he told him, slipping his cock halfway inside Dean. Seconds later, he was balls deep.

Dean gritted his teeth at the overwhelming feeling of fullness just verging towards pain. His trembling hand reached back and patted Aidan’s on his hip. “Fuck me, Aid,” he bade him. 

Aidan did, and it was just shy of violent—exactly how Dean knew it would be that night. Exactly how he wanted it to be. His orgasm began seconds before Aidan snaked his hand around to his crotch and squeezed.

Five minutes later found them laying side by side, Aidan smoking a cigarette and Dean grinning and sore. The sex just kept getting better and better, with so little effort. Dean certainly didn’t deserve to be this lucky. 

“I’ve gotta take a shower, love,” he groaned to Aidan. “Or maybe I’ll get back in that Jacuzzi instead.” 

“Either works for me,” Aidan sniffed. “You’re nothing but a cum-covered mess right now.”

“Just for that, you owe me a massage,” Dean frowned. He _was_ a cum-covered mess. Aidan had hit the nail on the head with that. Of course, Aidan was also guilty of doing the covering.

Dean took a quick soak and returned to the bedroom, where Aidan had straightened up the bed. “There, see?” he gestured broadly. “I’m not a totally insensitive gob.”

“Not totally,” Dean kissed him, skin still damp.

“Found some new massage oil at the hotel gift shop today. Smells incredible,” Aidan added. “I know how knotted up your shoulders get at Con, Dee.”

Aidan pulled on his own underwear and a pair of sweatpants. “Get on the bed, you adorable creature. On your stomach,” he pointed at the center of the mattress.

Dean willingly complied, muscles already relaxing at the prospect of Aidan’s strong hands digging into them. Readily, Aidan straddled Dean’s hips, for a moment just relishing the feeling of having Dean at his mercy yet again.

“All right, already,” Dean wiggled his hips, much to Aidan’s delight. “Get on with it, lover. You owe it to me after listening to _The Smurfs_ seventeen times on the ride back.”

“Really?” Aidan poured some of the massage oil into his left palm. “It was only seventeen? Damn. I was going for twenty.”

Dean chuckled. There was no fight left in him. Not with Aidan’s half hard cock prodding the small of his back.

Aidan set the bottle aside and began smoothing the oil over Dean’s shoulders, digging in with his thumbs as he went.

“Mmm, that feels amazing,” Dean melted beneath his touch. “And you’re right. Smells incredible, too.” He took another deep whiff, then settled in to enjoy the backrub, hoping, of course, that it led to the rubbing of other things.

A few moments later, Dean started to feel uncomfortably warm. He was about to remark to Aidan about it when his chest started to tighten up. “H-hey, Aid? Can you stop for minute?” he asked.

When Aidan did, Dean motioned hurriedly for him to get off of him and Aidan quickly complied. Dean rolled onto his side and Aidan could see the panic in his eyes. He’d seen that frightened look before, yet it still froze his blood.

“Find my EpiPen bag… in m-my suitcase,” Dean gestured towards where he’d put the bag when they’d arrived. Already Dean was wheezing and Aidan noticed red splotches blossoming on his skin. Dean was having an allergic reaction to something—probably the massage oil!

Dean had a peanut allergy. At times it was the cause of running jokes on set, but Aidan, having seen first hand what happened if Dean came in contact with just the tiniest speck of peanuts or peanut products, didn’t find it amusing. And this? Well, this had to be his fault. There must have been something in the massage oil that he overlooked. He’d read and double-read the label carefully before he bought it.

Fighting his instinct to stay by Dean’s side as he wheezed and clutched at his chest, Aidan leapt off the bed and dashed to Dean’s navy blue suitcase, open on one of the dressers, and flung clothing items aside digging for the navy blue zip case he knew held a few EpiPens.

“Got it!” he announced, for Dean’s benefit, and dashed towards the bed while slipping the pen from its protective tube. 

Dean was taking the deepest breaths he could, but the wheezing was terrifying, as was the blue shade creeping into his lips. He raised a hand, for the pen.

“I’ll do it, love,” Aidan squeezed Dean’s hand, flipping the safety off the end of the pen and lowering it to Dean’s thigh. “I’ve got it,” he said soothingly, releasing the needle and holding it steady for a ten count. He withdrew the plunger and tossed the pen aside, massaging the spot where he’d administered it. Aidan’s eyes never left Dean’s face, watching for signs that his distress was decreasing. 

He knew he should be calling 9-1-1, but he couldn’t bear to leave Dean’s side. 

Thirty seconds later, Dean let out a sigh and pulled Aidan down into his shaky embrace. “Shit,” he gasped, carding Aidan’s curls. “Holy shit.”

“Love you, Deano,” Aidan finally let his tears come. “God… I love you,” he held him tenderly. “Do you want to go to the emergency room?”

Dean shook his head. “No,” he said, “but I need a shower right away. Can you help?”

“Yes, of course,” he helped Dean to his feet. “It had to be the oil,” Aidan lamented. “I read the label so carefully. This was my fault! I’m so, so sorry,” he hugged Dean.

“You can’t protect me from everything, love,” Dean felt as if his legs might give out. “I don’t expect you to, Aid.”

“C’mon,” Aidan wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist and led him to the lavish bathroom. He helped Dean step into the shower, then joined him. “I’m not about to let you fall over,” Aidan said, in explanation. “I’m going to scrub the shit out of you, make sure it’s all gone.”

Ten minutes later found Aidan tucking Dean under the covers of the room’s other bed. He lay an extra EpiPen by the bed, just in case, although Dean had assured him that he felt fine—exhausted, but fine.

“Read me a bedtime story,” Dean smiled at him. “The ingredients of that massage oil, if you don’t mind.”

Aidan blushed and reached for the bottle, and cleared his throat. “Geranium Oil,” he smoothed an errant curl from Dean’s forehead, “Black Pepper Oil, Arachis Oil…”

“Ahh,” Dean chuckled. “Well, there’s your culprit, love. Arachis oil _is_ peanut oil. It’s just another name for it.”

“Are you having one over on me? Wankers!” Aidan shot an accusing glance at the bottle. “Why wouldn’t they put _Peanut Oil_ on the label?” He tossed the offending bottle into the trash can on the other side of the room.

“Because _Arachis Oil_ sounds far more exotic, doesn’t it?” Dean yawned. “Like something the Three Wise Men would have brought the baby Jesus. Or something you’d use to anoint a mummy.”

“A mummy,” Aidan smiled broadly, and leaned over to kiss Dean gently. “I love you, Dean. Love you so much.” He leaned over to flip out the light and snuggled down under the covers. “Gonna hold you ‘til you fall asleep, then lay here listening to you breathe for awhile.”

“Okay, Aid,” Dean curled up, head on his shoulder. “Love you.”

A few minutes later, Dean’s breathing began to even out. But the silence was soon broken by Dean’s chuckle. 

“What’s so funny?” Aidan wondered. “You almost died.”

“I’m just relieved,” Dean squeezed him tighter, “that the peanut oil wasn’t in the lube.”


End file.
